


Christmas Collection 2k14

by destiny919



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, allison is alive suck my ass, happy holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:15:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2852120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destiny919/pseuds/destiny919
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All I want for Christmas is canon Stydia, but I had to improvise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mistletoe Mastermind

**Author's Note:**

> i ran out of time and finished this at 3am last night god bless

“Well, that’s not good.” Stiles held up the Christmas lights he’d unearthed from the McCalls’ attic. They were in one giant cluster of thick green rubber-encased wire.

“Gordian called, he wants his knot back,” Lydia muttered. “At least we’ve got plenty of time. Scott and Allison aren’t even back with the tree yet.”

“Probably stopped to make out under every bit of mistletoe,” he grumbled.

 _At least they can_ , Lydia thought jealously. She had no one to kiss under poisonous berries this year.

Least of all the dorky boy in front of her.

If anyone asked Lydia what she wanted this year, she’d tell them a new Prada handbag and maenad-proof earplugs. Oh, and a more comprehensive Sanskrit dictionary. But there was really only one thing Lydia was wishing for these days.

Stiles Stilinski.

But he was a bit more difficult to gift-wrap and leave under the tree.

If their friends ever returned with it.

 _stop making out and get the damn tree_ , Lydia texted her best friend.

_sure you don’t want some more alone time with stiles? ;)_

She regretted ever confiding in Allison about her feelings.

_just get back here, argent._

_be there in ten, martin ;)))_

_STOP WINKING_

_maybe if you winked at stiles he’d get his head out of his ass and make a move already_

Lydia was formulating an irate response when Allison texted again.

_oh nvm scott says stiles loves you like crazy (O/C!!!!!) but will never make a move. it’s all on you, babe._

_I KNOW THAT WHY DO YOU THINK I’M IN THIS MESS?_ She paused. _WAIT A SECOND. YOU TOLD SCOTT?????_

 _uwu_ was all she received back.

_HOW DARE YOU ALLISON ARGENT_

_well, it’s obvious anyway. it’s only because stiles is clueless when it comes to you having feelings for him that HE hasn’t already figured it out._

Lydia suppressed a sigh, her eyes darting over to the boy currently wrestling with Christmas lights. _just get back here. his sleeves are rolled up and i can’t be held responsible for my actions._

_O RLY?? maybe we should stop for coffee then._

_ALLISON._

_two minutes. calm yo tits_

_you did not just say that._

_SORRY!!!! i had scott type that message and he… improvised._

_tell scott i hate him_

_he gave me the kicked puppy look. i hope you’re happy >:C_

_euphoric._

“They gonna be back soon?” Stiles asked suddenly, startling Lydia.

“Yeah,” she choked out. “In just a minute.”

He frowned at her, immediately concerned. “You okay, Lyds?” Damn him and his incredible talent for picking up on her emotions - except when it came to ones about him, of course.

“I’m fine,” she told him firmly. “Just excited about the party and impatient for the lovestruck idiots to get back here.” She’s calling them lovestruck idiots? Pot, have you met my friend Kettle?

Stiles grinned at her, and Lydia knew she’d never be able to hold their gooiness against Scott and Allison ever again, because her heart literally skipped a beat. She could picture the shit-eating grin any and every werewolf would have given her had they been present. Her best friend was right, it really was obvious to any other observer that she was head over heels for Stiles Stilinski. And there’d be almost a dozen supernatural creatures at the party to witness her hopeless situation right down to the anatomical details.

Bah humbug.

.

.

Stiles plugged the wire into an outlet, and looked up at Lydia. “You ready?”

“Go.”

He flipped the power switch and the lights flickered on. His eyes scanned along the wire to check for dead bulbs, but his attention was very quickly diverted to the girl helping him.

The rainbow-colored lights danced across Lydia’s face, intent on their task. She was so beautiful when she concentrated, whether it was on broken Christmas lights or potentially life-saving ancient texts.

All I want for Christmas is you, Mariah Carey belted in the back of his head. God, he was a dork, just put him out with the trash on Monday morning.

Stiles was still gazing at her when she looked up suddenly. The lights reflected in her huge green eyes, and his breath caught.

“Th-There are five out on this strip,” she blurted out. Was Lydia Martin stammering?

No, there had to be something wrong with his hearing.

“Okay,” he replied just as shakily. She grabbed the plastic bag full of replacement bulbs and handed him a pack. Stiles was grateful for the distraction as he diligently noted which lights she pointed out and went down the line to replace them while she did the same from the other end.

The two of them were so frequently in sync, and normally he liked that because, not only did it help them with their perfect Scully and Mulder routine, it proved what he’d been thinking (and saying, and shouting) since grade three: Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin were a perfect match.

Unfortunately, this was one of those rare moments when their synchronicity caused him chagrin. They moved down the lights at exactly the same pace, and reached the middle one simultaneously.

Their heads knocked together. A veritable _boink_ straight out of a cartoon.

Lydia let out a little squeak that made Stiles grin even as he rubbed his forehead. She only ever made sounds like that when she felt completely comfortable. When she was with him.

Shut up, world, he has to appreciate the little things you let him have.

He looks up and meets her green eyes again. She smiles at him, and - are her cheeks flushed? He’s positive his are, dammit. They both laugh a little nervously. “We should be on Looney Tunes with that schtick,” Stiles mumbles.

“Look out, Tom and Jerry, here comes the boy and the banshee,” Lydia intoned.

“Oi, how come you get to be the banshee and I’m just the boy?”

“You are absolutely welcome to be the banshee, Stiles,” she says with an unexpected rush of bitterness in her tone, and he immediately feels terrible.

“Lyds, I-” He was saved by the bell - literally, the doorbell rang about fifteen times in a row.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, and got up to answer it, only to be immediately greeted by the business end of a fir tree.

“Comin’ through!” Scott hollered, and marched past him. Allison followed him inside, grinning sweetly and waggling her gloved fingers in greeting.

“Did you have to ring so many times, Ally?”

“Of course, that way you’d know it was us!” She blew him a kiss and plopped down on the sofa next to Lydia.

She took in the lingering frown on her best friend’s face and her own grin faded. “Lydia, are you okay?” she whispered. “Did something happen?”

Lydia just shook her head. “Not now, Ally,” she mumbled.

The huntress was still concerned, but let it slide. Her gaze slid over to Stiles, and she caught him giving Lydia a worried look of his own. A-ha.

“Sorry we took so long,” she offered her friend.

Shrugging, Lydia grumbled, “How many pieces of mistletoe _were_ there?”

“A lot,” Allison conceded. “And we didn’t restrict ourselves to visible mistletoe, either. Scott was just glad most of it was actually holly,” she snickered.

“The supernatural even complicates Christmas,” Lydia snorted. “Is there no aspect of life it can’t fuck up?”

Allison waggled her eyebrows and jutted her chin over to the boys who were comically failing to get the tree set up in its stand. “Well, there’s one aspect you’re fucking up all on your own.”

She received a glare. “It’s _complicated_ , Allison.”

“Not really.” She shrugged. “All you gotta do is grab him and kiss him, bam, happily ever after.”

Lydia only shook her head despondently. “Just enjoy your mistletoe make-outs and leave the Grinch to her own devices.”

Well, Allison had no intention of doing the second thing. The first, however, gave her an idea…

.

.

The pack’s Christmas party was in full swing by later that evening. Scott and Stiles had finally wrestled the tree into place, and it had been decorated by the four of them and the other pack members as they arrived, finally being finished by the time Cora and Derek walked in last.

Allison had hung mistletoe (holly) in every single doorway of the McCall house.

“Isn’t mistletoe poisonous to us?” Malia had asked very seriously upon seeing it.

“Yes, it is, but that’s just holly,” Kira soothed her. “And at Christmastime couples are supposed to kiss underneath it.”

“Oh!” Malia smiled widely and grabbed her girlfriend for an enthusiastic smooch. The werecoyote had continued to do so at every available opportunity, and Kira was obviously not complaining.

Scott and Allison were likewise continuing their habit from that afternoon, and even Boyd, who was normally averse to PDA, had happily kissed Erica under a bunch.

Lydia had just warily eyed every doorway, making sure not to pause under them with anyone else around. She wasn’t in the mood to kiss anyone. Except, of course, Stiles.

And Allison had a plan for that. Not that she’d informed the banshee _or_ her soon-to-be boyfriend. Scott, however, was her very enthusiastic accomplice, who had in turn enlisted Isaac. The other werewolf really, _really_ wanted to see all that UST end at last, so he agreed willingly enough.

To throw off suspicion, Allison asked Stiles to get more paper cups from the kitchen. And Scott asked Lydia to grab another bottle of Dr. Pepper, because Malia already drank half of it. And Isaac blocked one of the two kitchen doors.

And so there they were, holding a stack of cups and a liter bottle of soda, staring down the barrel of a holly bunch.

Neither moved, their eyes darting towards each other and away. “This was a plan,” Lydia sighed finally.

“Allison is an evil mastermind,” Stiles grumbled.

She looked at him, biting her lip. “Let’s just give each other a Christmas present and get over ourselves.”

A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “If you say so, Lydia Martin.”

With one final glance at the mistletoe each, they leaned in.

“Move,” said a flat voice, and Cora pushed past them both, effectively shattering the moment. Allison’s cursing could be heard across the room.

Both of them had flaming red cheeks and a sudden problem with eye contact for the rest of the evening.

It was only late that night, after both Stiles and Lydia had stayed to help clean up the party, when a true opportunity presented itself.

All the mistletoe had been removed by a deeply bitter Allison. Except for one little piece, hanging in the front door.

“She should plan bank heists,” Lydia commented.

“I have, and she would have been a great asset,” Stiles agreed.

They looked at each other for a long moment.

“Merry Christmas, Stiles,” she said.

“Merry Christmas, Lydia,” he said.

They leaned in together, and finally kissed. Her arms wrapped around his neck and his around her waist, and inside the house Allison Argent let out a whoop.

Lydia broke away briefly. “I don’t suppose this means I don’t have to give you another present?” she called over.

“Not a chance!”


	2. to me, you are perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> watching love actually is a long-standing christmas tradition for my aunt and i, and we watched it yesterday afternoon and i got inspired

“God Only Knows” by the Beach Boys played peppily in the background as the credits for _Love Actually_ scrolled across the screen. Allison sighed happily. “I love this movie. And yet I restrict myself to watching it only at Christmastime.”

“It’s your present to yourself,” Lydia offered. “I can’t believe you’d never seen it, Kira.”

The kitsune nodded. “I had not lived until this afternoon. My favorite part, oh man.”

“What was it?” Allison asked. “Mine is Hugh Grant doing that stupid dance.”

“How typical,” Lydia drawled teasingly. Allison stuck out her tongue.

“Hm.” Kira pursed her lips. “Ooh, I know! It was when Rick Grimes –,” Lydia snorted, “did the thing with Keira – like me! – Knightley and the cue cards.”

“That’s so beautiful!” agreed Allison. “Christmas really should be a time for honesty about your feelings.” She turned to her best friend. “Lydia, I love you so much. But I hate that color of nail polish.” Kira burst out laughing while Lydia pouted.

“I like blue,” she defended. “And it goes so well with my hair. Stiles says it’s his favorite on me,” she added a bit dreamily. It was Allison’s turn to snort.

“Speaking of being honest about your feelings…”

Lydia frowned at the huntress. “What?”

“You totally need to tell Stiles how you feel about him!”

“Oh my god.” Kira covered her mouth with her hand. “You totally do!”

“I hate you both,” Lydia said flatly, and pressed a throw pillow against her face. “And I regret ever telling either of you about my feelings.” Her voice came out muffled.

Allison shrugged unconcernedly, and then her excitement returned. “You should do the card thing. That’d be so adorable, and wonderful, and –!”

“Stiles hasn’t even seen _Love Actually_ ,” she interjected.

“And of course you would know that,” Kira muttered.

Allison shushed her. “That’s just another reason she needs to do it. The two of you are so close and so goddamn in love it’s driving the whole pack _nuts_.”

“We’ve talked about it,” offered Kira.

“You _WHAT_?” Lydia screeched.

Both of them nodded. “Isaac complains all the time,” Kira grumbled. “He and Stiles already don’t get along but now he’s annoyed by you, too.”

“What did I do?”

“It’s what you _didn’t_ do – y’know, tell Stiles how you feel, so you guys can skip off through a field of flowers into the sunset and live happily -”

“Nerdily,” Allison cut in.

“- Ever after,” Kira finished. “And the sexual tension is driving him crazy. Scott at least is, well, Scott, so he’s more patient about it, but he’s mentioned giving Stiles a… nudge in the right direction.”

Lydia sighed. “Okay, there’s one problem with all this. _Stiles has a girlfriend._ ” She looked like saying the words made her physically ill. _“_ What about Malia?”

Allison shook her head. “Malia’s great and stuff, but everybody knows you and Stiles are… _meant_ to be together.”

Lydia frowned at her friend. “There’s no such thing as fate.”

“There’s no such thing as werewolves,” she countered, and the wide smile that bloomed on her face contained something Lydia didn’t understand.

“Okay, point taken,” she sighed. “…Are you gonna make me do this tonight?”

“Yup!” Allison proclaimed, and Kira clapped her hands rapidly and squealed.

“Oh my god, you and Stiles are finally gonna happen! I’ve been waiting for this since I met you guys!”

Lydia stared at the kitsune. “ _Seriously_?” Kira nodded vehemently. “Jeez. Anyway, we don’t know that he’s going to like… feel the same.” She drooped. “He doesn’t. He’s with Malia and this is just going to make things awkward.”

Allison shook her head firmly. “No, see, we’re gonna make it _not_ awkward. You don’t expect anything to come of it?”

“No, I don’t,” she mumbled.

“Well, make that clear! You don’t expect anything, you’re just being honest with him about your feelings finally, because it’s Christmas. It’s like whatshisface in the movie, he just wanted to tell her, he knew nothing would happen. Even though,” Allison added with a grin, “it’s not like Stiles is married to your best friend. So something could _totally_ happen.”

“Did you take some strange drug I should be aware of today, Allison?” Lydia griped. “Methamphetamines, perhaps? Or a hallucinogen?”

The huntress snickered. “I’m just high on Christmas and two of my best friends being _innn looooove_.”

“High on sugar, more like it. Or Kira is just rubbing off on you.”

“Hey!”

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing, sweetheart. But we can’t all be Pikachu.”

“No we can’t.” Kira snapped her fingers, making a spark. “So are we gonna do this or what?”

Lydia sighed. “Let’s go get some poster board.”

.

.

Lydia still couldn’t believe she had allowed them to talk her into this. There was a stack of cue cards in the back seat of her car with Kira. She was both very regretful and very glad that her two friends had come with her. Regretful because they were both giggling and excited and hopeful, and very glad because when she walked back to her car after Stiles had rejected her, and she was completely heartbroken despite her lack of optimism, they would be there.

“Okay,” Allison whispered despite no one else being around to hear her, “his Jeep is in the driveway. The Sheriff’s cruiser is not. You have no excuse not to do this.”

“Except sanity,” Lydia murmured. “Okay.” She took a deep breath, and hopped out of the car.

She walked with the cue cards tucked under her arm, wearing a blue (Stiles’ favorite color on her, a traitorous voice in the back of her mind whispered) knit cap on her head and a plaid cashmere coat she’d borrowed from Allison last year and never returned. Her fingers were beginning to smart from the cold already and she wished for gloves. But Lydia would be back in the safety of her car soon enough, with hot tears to keep her warm.

Chewing her lip, Lydia rang the doorbell. She normally never did, just shot Stiles a text and he came to let her in immediately. But this was a special occasion.

He smiled brilliantly as soon as he saw it was her, and her heart skipped a beat. “Hey Lyds! Why’d you ring the bell?”

Lydia just shook her head and held up the first card.

_Don’t say a word until I’m done okay I mean it NOT A WORD STILINSKI_

Obviously confused but snickering, Stiles nodded in agreement. Lydia went to the next card.

_I know you’re with Malia_

His confusion visibly increased.

_And I’m happy for you_

_But just because it’s Christmas_

_(and at Christmas we should be honest about our feelings)_

He was staring at her with wide eyes now, his desire to speak evident. But Lydia was grateful that he was obeying her first command and keeping quiet for once.

_Let me say_

_Without hope or agenda_

So she’d stolen a couple lines directly from the movie, sue her.

_I love you_

Stiles took a step forward out the door, but she held up a hand to stop him. “Let me finish,” she whispered, and he did.

_I love you so much it hurts_

_And you are my best friend_

“You’re mine too,” he breathed. Lydia just shook her head at him again, and went on to the next card, biting her lip.

_And my soul mate_

_I just had to let you know_

_Merry Christmas_

She smiled at him, sweetly, sadly, and walked away, leaving him dumbfounded behind her.

The first few tears had barely slipped down her frozen cheeks (although her eyes were already blurry enough that she could barely see Allison and Kira with their noses pressed against the car windows) when she felt someone grab her arm.

Stiles spun her around and his hands came up to cup her cold face. He stared into her eyes and said with total conviction, “I love you too.”

And he kissed her. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, and his hands left her face so his arms could tightly encircle her waist.

They finally broke apart, both grinning, their foreheads touching. “Malia?” was all Lydia could get out.

Stiles shook his head. “We broke up last week when she saw what I got you for Christmas.”

“Oh?” Lydia raised her eyebrows. “This is a pretty good gift on its own.”

He chuckled. “It really is. You’ll still get the other thing, though. Two presents.”

Frowning now, she said, “I didn’t get you anything.”

She could see Stiles roll his eyes even from this close vantage point. “Um, what did we just say?” He leaned in again and kissed her deeply. “Merry fucking Christmas to me.”

Lydia laughed. “Merry Christmas, Stiles.”

“And I predict a _very_ happy New Year.”


	3. A Family Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this as my secret santa gift for the lovely, incomparable ansley, tumblr user cindymoony. merry christmas, sweetie<33333

Lydia couldn’t stop tapping her fingers against her thigh, the staccato rhythm reflecting her nervousness. Stiles noticed, like he noticed everything, and reached over to hold her hand tightly in his free one. “It’s going to be great,” he told her. “He’ll love you, I promise.”

She smiled a little. “I know. It’s just, it’s a lot of pressure. Meeting your dad for the first time when I’m also spending Christmas here.” The two of them had been together for over six months, but because they lived in Los Angeles and Stiles didn’t go home to Beacon Hills much, Lydia hadn’t yet been introduced to his father. She knew how much Stiles adored him, and was kind of desperate to make a good impression.

Stiles squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. Scott and Allison will be there tomorrow, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does.” Stiles’ lifelong best friend was also dating Lydia’s, and the other couple had likewise returned to Beacon Hills for Christmas. They were spending Christmas Eve with Scott’s mother, however, so Lydia would be without the extra buffer when she met the Sheriff.

Normally, Lydia Martin was confident and more than capable socially. In the past, when she’d been introduced to a boyfriend’s parents, she handled it with aplomb and not worried at all. This was different. She and Stiles were different. And Lydia did _not_ want to screw it up.

The fact that it was Christmas just added some extra pressure.

Both of their jobs didn’t allow for much time off, so they would only be in Beacon Hills for three days. She had a narrow window in which to succeed.

Lydia took a deep breath and changed the subject. “I can’t believe the Jeep made it all the way here.” She patted the dashboard. When they’d started dating initially, she’d been less than impressed with Stiles’ beloved Roscoe. But the bright blue clunker had grown on her.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t let me listen to any Christmas songs!” Stiles replied, mock-horrified. “How are we supposed to celebrate without Jingle Bell Rock permanently stuck in our heads?”

“I’m sure you can get it in there on your own. Everybody in the English speaking world knows that song.”

“I still don’t know how you convinced Scott that _Mean Girls_ counts as a Christmas movie.”

She gave him a sly grin. “I have my ways.”

.

.

Lydia held tightly to Stiles’ hand as he rang the doorbell to the house. He shot her a reassuring smile and leaned over to press a tender kiss to her temple. “Don’t be nervous, baby.”

“You say that like it’s so easy,” she grumbles.

He shrugged. “It is. My dad’s a pretty easy-going guy.”

“I’ll bet he had to be, raising _you_.” She smirked at his mock-offense.

The door opened, revealing the kind-looking man with plenty of laugh lines that Lydia had seen in so many of Stiles’ pictures. “Hey. Merry Christmas.” He smiled widely and stood aside to let them pass through the door. “You’re not late, it’s a miracle.”

“All thanks to Miss Itinerary.” Stiles gestured to her, and she blushed.

“I like being punctual,” she defended.

“Lydia, we left over an hour early.”

“And you thanked me after the second In-N-Out stop.”

The sheriff watched them banter, looking amused. “Alright, proper introductions.” He raised a pointed eyebrow at his son.

“Right, right! Dad, this is my girlfriend, Lydia Martin. Lyds, this is my dad, John Stilinski.” Lydia automatically reached out her hand, and they shook.

“Your girl’s got a good grip,” John commented, smiling at her.

“On reality, yes,” Stiles agreed. “One of us has to.”

Lydia and his father both chuckled, the former still a bit nervously.

“I already put up the tree in the living room, let’s go sit down. I want to get to know the girl who’s so thoroughly enchanted my son.”

Stiles flushed slightly. “Christ, dad.”

She patted his arm. “You’re not very subtle, babe. It’s impossible to hide how irresistible I am to you.”

Grumbling, Stiles led her into the living room.

.

.

Auld Lang Syne played softly over the stereo, and the lights on the smallish tree twinkled. Lydia sat on the couch with Stiles, her hands holding tight to her cup of eggnog.

“So, Lydia, since the two of you met Stiles has not stopped talking about you.” The sheriff smirked when Stiles shot him an _I can’t believe you_ glare. “I feel like I’ve heard more about your life than my son’s.”

She smiled demurely. “My mom said almost the same thing about me when she came for Thanksgiving. Stiles made quite an impression on his own, though.” Stiles delicately buried his face in a throw pillow.

The sheriff rolled his eyes. “I can imagine.” He sipped his eggnog. “Your mother didn’t mind not seeing you for Christmas?”

“No,” Lydia replied softly. “She spends it in the tropics every year, so we’re used to not seeing each other. That’s, uh, that’s how it’s been since, um, since my parents got divorced.” He frowned. “I was always supposed to spend Christmas with my father, but he wasn’t around either, so…” She trailed off. But Stiles squeezed her hand, and she smiled, albeit a little sadly. “I haven’t had a real _family_ Christmas  since I was a little girl.”

Sheriff Stilinski looked disquieted for a moment longer, before his expression cleared and  he gave her a warm smile. “I’m very glad you could join us this year, then.”

Lydia felt her chest lighten and grinned back. “Me too.”

.

.

 

“Wow. Your old room.” Lydia smiled as she looked around her boyfriend’s childhood haven, blue plaid bedspread, posters and pictures and seemingly random newspaper clippings stuck up all over the walls.

“Yeah.” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “Dad keeps saying he’s gonna turn it into… something. The answers vary. But it’s still here, so. Obviously. He hasn’t.”

He was obviously nervous about her seeing his old home just like she was nervous about meeting his dad. And like he did, she thought it was ridiculous. Lydia wrapped her arms around his waist. “I think it’s really sweet that your dad has kept your room,” she told him honestly. “My mom gutted mine and put in all her exercise equipment before I’d been gone a week.”

Stiles squeezed her a little tighter. “And what my dad said – I’m so happy you’re here, too.” He kissed her, and Lydia felt her nerves recede even more.

Despite that, she couldn’t sleep that night. She hadn’t been restless on Christmas Eve since she was about seven years old. Though this wasn’t from excitement. Lydia wandered downstairs on silent feet, and sat on the couch again, watching the tree lights dance across the ceiling.

She’d been there for about ten minutes when she was startled by someone else sitting down on the couch. “Oh! Mr. Stilinski, you scared me,” she said with a sheepish smile.

“Please, call me John.” She nodded. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nope. It’s not because of – the bed is great, it’s really cute seeing Stiles’ old room and everything,” she told him hastily.

“I’ll bet,” he said wryly. “And I don’t suppose it’s Christmas jitters, either. Stiles used to be terrible, he’d be up till the wee hours of the morning and ‘Santa’,” he made air quotes, “barely got a chance to put anything under the tree without him watching like a hawk.”

“Oh, god, I can imagine that so well. But no, it’s not, uh, excitement.” Lydia blushed a little (her cheeks would probably be permanently pink after all this) and looked down at her hands.

“You’re nervous about meeting me,” the sheriff said shrewdly.

She smiled crookedly. “How’d you guess?”

John shrugged. “I’m the sheriff. Detective work is part of my job.”

“Of course. That’s where Stiles gets it. He’s the best deputy on the LAPD,” she said proudly. “I worry about him a lot, though,” she added a bit forlornly.

He nodded. “I know. Stiles’ mother could barely sleep when I worked the night shift. And I worry about him myself now. For all the issues in Beacon Hills, LA is still a much rougher place.”

“I know Stiles loves this town, though,” Lydia said. “He’s mentioned wanting to move back here when we – when he has a family.”

The sheriff smirked. “Six months, huh?”

Blushing furiously, Lydia mumbled, “It’s been a good six months.”

“I’m sure it has. I meant it when I said Stiles has talked about almost nothing but you the entire time. And he’s told me some amazing things. Genius, hm?”

Lydia smiled. “Yes, actually. He probably also told you I’m working on my Ph.D. in Applied Mathematics at Caltech.”

“I figured you were no slouch academically since the two of you met at Stanford, but wow.” John chuckled. “My son always needed someone who could keep up with him academically. Scott is the best friend anyone could ever ask for, but…”

“He’s not very intellectual.” She giggled.

“And Stiles is. And so are you.” He reached out and patted her hand. “I just met you, Lydia, but I can already tell the two of you are perfect for each other.” She gulped. “And I look forward to you being a part of my family.”

To her embarrassment, Lydia’s eyes filled with tears. She swiped them away quickly. “I – thank you. That means… so much.” Impulsively she moved over and hugged John tightly. He patted her on the back gently.

“Whoa, what’d I miss?” They both looked up to see Stiles standing in the door, rubbing his eyes and his hair sticking up in every direction. “I woke up and you weren’t there, Lyds, so I came to check.”

She smiled widely at him. “Always so concerned.”

“Duh.” He slouched over and plopped onto the couch in between the two of them. “Glad to see you guys bonding.” Wrapping his arm around Lydia, he stage-whispered to her, “Told ya there was nothing to worry about.”

She rolled her eyes but leaned her head on his shoulder, resuming her appreciation of the Christmas lights. “You were right.” She gave the sheriff a smile across Stiles. “We’ll have to make sure we can stay longer next year.”


End file.
